PSYCHOANALYSIS FOR SUICIDAL YOUNG EXPERTS

When is a comics con not a comics con? When it's a comics festival, silly.

Like the rest of the Ninth Art editorial board (and a fair number of our regular contributors), I was at Comics 2003 - the UK Comics Festival - in Bristol a couple of weeks ago. A good time was had by all, especially those who spent the entire weekend in a cheap pub a stone's throw from the venue. I met a bunch of old friends, made a few new ones, lost my voice from all the SHOUTING and ran up a bar tab of a size usually reserved for visiting DC editors on expense accounts.

But one thing that stands out about Bristol, and stood out this year more so than previous UK Comics Festivals, is how much it doesn't feel like a con. Now, organiser Kev Sutherland would thank me for saying that anyway - he does his damnedest to make sure people refer to Bristol as a 'Festival', not a 'Convention', whenever he can - but curiously, it comes about not so much from design as circumstance.

Britain doesn't really have a comics industry left to speak of. There's 2000AD and THE JUDGE DREDD MEGAZINE, a bunch of kid's comics like old stalwarts THE BEANO and THE DANDY, and that's really about it in terms of 'corporate' comics. Where once we had dozens of titles launching every year, there hasn't been a new title in this country since the MEGAZINE launched in 1990. That's thirteen years ago, folks.

What we do have is a wealth of talent that produces books for American publishers. I won't bother with a list, because if you're reading this the chances are you're already familiar with the creators I mean. But I can tell you that most of that talent is at Bristol every year.

The thing is, most of those American publishers don't have set-ups at the show. Marvel have never had a booth, Dark Horse did it twice then stopped, Image had just one about three years ago (though Jim Valentino has continued attending in person), CrossGen have never had one, and DC's has become continually smaller over the years to the point that this year - due to Jim Lee being a guest of honour - their small setup was used for almost nothing but signings by Lee, and portfolio reviews by Scott Dunbier.

The only other Stateside publishers with booths this year were Top Shelf (which Chris Staros uses more as a venue to sell books than host signings or whatnot) and Avatar, where myself and future ROBOCOP writer Nick Locking were in residence.

(This picture, by the way, gives online readers some idea of space - of the publishers, only Rebellion had a booth of any significant larger size. DC booked huge areas for their signings and promotional materials until a year or two ago, but this year and the last have seen them take small tables, instead bringing over plenty of staff and a few US creators. Marvel did the same thing last year - no booth, just the three major editorial staff walking the floor and doing the rounds - but this year gave up on official representation at Bristol at all.)

(PS: Nick is the glowering hippy. The guy on the left, sitting next to me, is William Christensen, Avatar's editor-in-chief.)

So all that aforementioned talent, the people who work almost exclusively for large American publishers - where were they? Well, they were behind their own tables and booths, sketching, signing and enjoying themselves.

And the rest of the floor was taken up with dealers and self-publishers, small-pressers and minicomics creators.

The result is rather odd; a mainstream comics convention (sorry, Festival) where more than half of the floorspace is taken up with young, ambitious self-publishers hawking their wares. The whole thing has a distinctly bohemian feel.

Now, that may be an odd sight to a seasoned con-goer. But I actually think it might be doing us a service, at least in the UK.

Ticket prices to the event are laughably low, and walk-in, non-fanboy attendance is encouraged at every possible level. Every year, there's a healthy number of attendees who either haven't read comics in years, are too young to remember when the UK had a thriving industry, or simply know nothing about them beyond what they see on TV. People really do walk in off the street out of curiosity.

And I think for an audience like that, the decidedly unconventional (geddit?) nature of Bristol is quite encouraging; the variety, especially with regard to the indie and underground scenes over here, means there's something for anyone who takes the time to walk round the hall.

Bristol's by no means perfect - signage, scheduling and panel organisation could all do with some improvement - but after this year's event, I'm starting to think the lack of Big American Superhero presence could actually be a benefit.

READY FOR FUTURE WAR

Speaking of self-publishers and small-pressers... On the few occasions I escaped from behind the Avatar table, I picked up a few minicomics and zines from the rest of the floor. Here's a quick sampling of some of my favourites:

SPRINGHEEL JACK #1, by David Hitchcock

Some of you may remember David Hitchcock from his Ninth Art interview, conducted back when he released his last comic WHITECHAPEL FREAK. Hitchcock's carving a niche out for himself that can best be described as 'supernatural history' - he has a healthy obsession with the past as a source of inspiration, and a baroque visual style that belies his skills as a storyteller.

SPRINGHEEL JACK is Hitchcock's first attempt at a continuing series, and it's bloody good. Drawing on the 19th century hysteria surrounding a 'manifestation' of Springheel Jack, Hitchcock then riffs on a very familiar 'hero origin' story before a cliffhanger that makes you realise no, this isn't quite going to be what you through it would. The Bethlehem madhouse, Prince Albert, Dr Henry Jekyll and other sensationalist Victoriana staples all collide in beautifully-rendered pencil shades.

Expect to see SPRINGHEEL JACK turning up in Previews any day now. You'd be foolish to overlook it.

GREY SKY #2, by Sean Azzopardi

It may be a number #2, but this issue of GREY SKY is a stand-alone anthology. It contains three shorts; two comics, and one illustrated prose piece (with text by Ninth Art's Alasdair Watson). The main story, FLESHEATER, has the same bleak, nihilistic, downright misanthropic tone as much of Azzopardi's previous work. It references drugs, theft, contempt, murderous desires and dark fantasies, wrapped in art which is scratchy and impressionistic, preferring stark contrast over realism.

If Azzopardi was American, Fantagraphics would be banging his door down. But he isn't, so you'll have to make do with his website instead.

ODDCASES: THE NASTY LITTLE MAN, by Alistair Pulling & Bevis Musson

I love ODDCASES. This is somewhere around the fourth or fifth in the series - the adventures of Clarissa and Jani, a couple of middle-aged lesbians who also happen to be paranormal investigators. The couple trot around Britain solving paranormal problems, mostly with reference to sites or legends of old witchcraft (the notable exception being the debut THE CASE OF THE HAUNTED DRAG BAR, which is brilliant).

It may sound twee, but Pulling does solid research and knows how to tell a story. He's particularly adept at handling the couple's relationship, and one gets the impression many of the ODDCASES stories - dealing as they do with prejudice, tradition, vanity and common sense - are a voice for his own concerns on the subjects.

Musson's art has come a long way since the first ODDCASES, and while his figures are still sometimes a little stiff, his environments and attention to detail make up for it in spades.

You can read ODDCASES online at OPi8.

HIT, by Kieron Gillen et al

I'm kind of biased on this one, because I know Gillen of old; we both used to work for the same publisher. But I defy anyone to read HIT - a series of five-page stories, all based around different interpretations of the title - and not be impressed by its inventiveness and execution.

The last second of consciousness, the guilt of an army corps' sole survivor, the popstar revenge of a jilted lover, a desperate journalist in search of a headline, an assassin with a time-travelling bullet... Brilliant ideas, thrown onto the page with a manic energy, and deftly illustrated here by Brian Laframboise, Natalie Sandells, Jeff Coleman and Dale.

You can read all of the HITs so far at NextComics.

...You'll notice that there's nothing in the above selection which would 'scare off' someone new to comics. Like their American brothers-in-subculture, the British underground are busily ignoring what the Western world laughably calls mainstream, instead creating comics which - shock horror - ordinary people might actually want to read.

DON'T LET YOUR RAIN FALL DOWN ON ME

I've been so bogged down in work the last few weeks that I haven't heard any new music at all. My Dying Bride, Paradise Lost and Type O Negative are all about to release new albums, so I'm saving the pennies till then - in the meantime, this month's titles are from a selection of Obscure and Pretentious songs by goth bands of varying European extraction.

Antony Johnston is the author of JULIUS, SPOOKED and THE LONG HAUL. His new ongoing series WASTELAND begins in July 2006.

This article is Ideological Freeware. The author grants permission for its reproduction and redistribution by private individuals on condition that the author and source of the article are clearly shown, no charge is made, and the whole article is reproduced intact, including this notice.